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Friday, March 29, 2013

First of all, the long week of illness that plagued my family has come to an end, and we're all feeling much better! That alone is worth a shout of WOOHOO!

Also, the weather here in Iowa seems to be improving. It's supposed to be in the 50's today, so provided everything works out, I intend to take my kids to the park. I think they'd love to do that again. Playing on playground equipment that's buried in snow doesn't always work the best, but a lot of that snow has melted away. Hopefully none of it gets replaced by future storms.

I'm looking forward to Easter this weekend. I love watching my kids go through their Easter baskets, I love dying eggs, and I love eating chocolate bunnies! Granted, when I eat chocolate bunnies, I have to outright ignore the nutrition information on the box to avoid the guilt, but that's okay.

After taking a week off to battle illness, I'm back with another installment of my flash fiction serial. For those who've missed previous entries, you can find the whole story on this PAGE.

Memoirs
From the End of the World

Entry
#29

The muted light that passed through RC’s
eyelids was unexpected, to say the least.
The sensation of steely hands clamped around her throat came back to her
like a punch to the stomach. Horrified
by the memory, she opened her eyes, hoping against hope that the image greeting
her would be better than the last.

First of all, she was no longer in the
same room. Light streamed in through a
couple of windows, making the world appear much brighter than before.

Frantic, she remembered her last view of
Alyx lying unconscious on the floor.
Though her vision was somewhat blurred for some reason she couldn’t
quite understand, she could see well enough to decide he wasn’t in the room
with her now. Tim, on the other hand,
was sitting crumpled up in the corner.

“It looks like she’s waking up.” A woman in a gray jumpsuit leaned over RC,
her bright green eyes intense as they scrutinized her. This woman’s breath smelled like mint as it
cascaded over her face. Though the smell
itself wasn’t at all unpleasant, the sensation sent chills down her spine.

The woman’s eyes flicked down toward RC’s
legs before she nodded. “Sure. She might disagree with you on that, but I
guess it won’t make any difference for our purposes.”

RC’s stomach knotted. What had he done to her while she was out
cold? Where was this woman looking, and
what did she see? Yet there wasn’t
really a question in her mind about what happened. Not really.
After hearing about Isabel’s experiences and what she went through, she
had no doubts about what Gas Can and the others were capable of doing.

“That was Leo’s handiwork,” Gas Can
replied. “He’s still upset about what
Isabel did to his brother. Since she
helped Isabel get away, it’s the closest thing to revenge he could get.”

When RC concentrated, she started to feel
more than the residual pain in her neck.
Her thighs ached, and she felt what had to be a deep gash that left her skin
caked with dried blood. That discovery
triggered a wave of nausea that forced her to look away from them both. The last thing she wanted was for them to
analyze her like an animal in a zoo.

“Well, I’ll leave that one for you.” The woman nodded at Tim. “I don’t care what you do with him. His self-inflicted vasectomy makes him
useless to us, and I don’t think you’re going to get him to talk at this point. I’ll take her.”

Where’s
Alyx? RC thought
frantically. If they’re discarding Tim, what would they do to Alyx? After all, they already declared him useless
every time the patrols ignored him.

“You’re going to live a much more
comfortable life where you’re going, sweetheart,” the woman said softly, though
she didn’t look RC in the eye when she said it.
“I don’t understand why people like you run for so long. The breeding facility isn’t nearly as bad as
you might imagine it to be.”

RC didn’t bother to refute these assertions
or to explain her position. That would
be futile. Only one thing mattered
enough to make her speak up. “Where’s
Alyx?”

The woman furrowed her eyebrow. “Which one was that?”

“That’s the one who spit on me,” a new
voice added. RC caught sight of a tuft
of blond hair.

“Yeah, he didn’t like Leo all that much,”
Gas Can replied. “It probably didn’t
help that you made him watch everything you did to her.”

“He was the one with the messed up keg,” Leo
added. “A souvenir I was more than happy
to provide.”

The woman nodded in recognition. “Oh, him.
Our medic already took him out of here.
He won’t be going to the same place as you, but the Constable requested
him for something. I have no idea what
they want with him, though.”

“He’s lucky,” Leo added bitterly. “If they’d left him to us, I would have
killed him and forced her to watch.”

Gas Can laughed. “You do like to have an audience, don’t you?”

“Can’t let good art go to waste,” Leo
replied.

“You can always finish him for her
entertainment.” Gas Can pointed to
Tim. “It won’t be the same since they
weren’t traveling together, but I bet you anything that it will still have an
impact on her.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Is this posturing really necessary?”

“Maybe we think it is,” Leo said
defensively. “Now be a doll and sit her
up for us.”

The woman sighed but did as they
demanded. RC’s head swam as her body
struggled to compensate for the sudden motion.
Though she knew it was a bad idea, she quickly glanced down to see the
damage firsthand. Her pants were gone,
though they’d at least let her keep her underwear. Bruises were popping up all over her skin.

RC forced her eyes away from the
injuries, biting her lower lip to keep the rage at bay. Exploding at them, justifiable though it
might be, would in no way help her position.

Tim stirred when Leo grabbed him by the
collar. “What do you want from me now?”
he demanded angrily.

“Your life.”

A look of undeniable relief came over Tim
moments before the knife tore through his carotid artery. The blood came fast, but RC didn’t focus on
that. She instead kept her eyes focused
on his. Even as despair threatened to
consume her, she focused on his relief, which remained firmly in place until
the end.

As the woman yanked RC to her feet, she
wondered if she should envy Tim. Would a
swift death be better than what awaited her, or was there still hope to be
found somewhere?

Thursday, March 28, 2013

For those who are not up to date on this sci-fi adventure, you can find the whole story from the beginning on this PAGE.

Unchained

Chapter
25: The
Inner Flame

Landing on Plenitia 5 was supposed to solve so many
problems, yet this dangerous woman who had no real qualms about the murders she’d
committed to remain free of her ex-husband, made an odd request before Ylana
and Nara could escape the gravitational pull of this backwater world: “Please,
stay with me until I’m done with the procedure.”

Myrandia’s voice sounded so sincere, even vulnerable, and
even with her newly fashioned talons for fingernails, she almost looked
fragile. Though Ylana didn’t understand
why, she felt an upwelling of sadness for her.

As they walked through the empty streets to the medical
clinic where Myrandia would find the solutions to her immediate problems, she
said, “Ylana, I think you’re fascinated with me, because you see a flame within
me that you wish you had inside you.
Your people have endured so much, and you want to fight against that,
yet unlike me, you can’t let go of the inhibitions that would allow you to get
what you want for your world.”

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

This week's Five Sentence Fiction prompt was CONQUER.For those who need to catch up on previous installments, you can find the entire story on this PAGE.

Unchained

Chapter
24: Dressed
to Conquer

Myrandia sat at the galley table, carefully shaving her
fingernails into sharp points that she intended to later dip into a tub of
bright red nail polish. The whole image
seemed so ridiculous that Ylana wanted to laugh, and she didn’t doubt that this
woman was merely doing this to play off the fears that she sensed from them
both.

“We’ll be dropping you off in two days,” Nara announced
flatly as she stood at the counter, pouring herself a steaming hot cup of
Trinco tea.

“That’ll be just fine,” Myrandia said softly as she
deliberately moved the nail file back and forth, dusting the table with white
residue.

Though Ylana knew she shouldn’t stir up trouble when this
shared journey was so near to being over, she found herself blurting out, “If
you don’t mind me asking, are you embellishing your appearance like that
because you want everyone to think you’re ready to conquer them, when you’re
actually terrified that your life has spun so far out of your control you don’t
know who you are anymore?”

The Express Yourself Weekly Meme is made possible by Jackie @ Bouquet of Books and Dani @ Entertaining Interests. Each week comes with a question to prompt self-expression. This week's question deals with one of my favorite things in the world. Books.

What books did you enjoy as a child?

When I was in elementary, the Goosebumps books by R.L. Stine were immensely popular, and I read most of them. It wasn't at all uncommon for me to get through a book in a single sitting.

From there though, I dove straight into the realm of adult books. I loved Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. I read it because I loved the movie, and though I didn't yet understand all the science in it as a ten year old kid, it excited me.

Science fiction books always held a certain appeal for me, so those made for some of my favorite stories. I like stories that defy the ordinary, everyday things in my life. That always has been, and always will be, the case.

Friday, March 22, 2013

I can't lie about the fact that it's been a hard week. This cold and flu season won't let up. Having two kids makes it seem that much longer. My husband caught a bad stomach flu earlier this week, and we all ended up with it. I'm most worried about my 3 year old, who hasn't been keeping down anything, even fluids. We're taking him to the doctor a little later today.

Since everything has been so stressful, I won't be doing all my normal postings. I usually post flash fiction on Fridays, but I haven't had a chance to write anything. I also won't be doing a Weekend Philosopher post this weekend since I need to focus on taking care of my family right now.

Still, even with such a rough week, there are some things to celebrate. There always are, after all!

I am mostly through with being sick. I still can't eat like normal yet, but I'm getting there!

I haven't been able to drink coffee since Tuesday. While that isn't the greatest of things, it also proves that I can survive without it. This is something I never would have imagined to be true!

I have a couple new books to read. While I may not have the time right now, I look forward to reading them in the near future!

Even with all the puking going on in my house this week, I managed to keep up with laundry. That's a feat in and of itself.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Sorry I'm a little late in posting this. I've been sick the last couple of days. It's difficult for me to keep up with anything right now.

I'm doing the A-Z Challenge on both of my blogs. For this blog, I'm going to be posting a story. Each chapter will correspond with the day's letter of the alphabet. I'm trying for sci-fi humor on this one. Not sure how well it will turn out, but I felt like being ambitious! I can never hope to be as good at this genre as Douglas Adams, of course. He set the bar rather high.

On my other blog, I'll be posting interesting videos that relate to science. Most of them will relate to astronomy, while others will deal with other areas of science. Astronomy is one of my favorite subjects, so that probably has a lot to do with why I'm focusing heavily on that.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Today I used a combination of things to inspire a poem. Awhile back I had an image of an abandoned railroad track that I jotted down in my notebook. I also drew upon the word MADNESS, which came to me via a random word generator.

I'm not a superstitious person, so I don't think holding on to specific trinkets will bring me luck. However, I do know I achieve more when I follow a certain routine that helps set me up for success. At night after my kids are settled down in bed and I've finished the housework, I sit down with a cup of coffee. I'll usually listen to Star Talk Radio or music while I get in whatever writing I can for the evening. It's my nightly ritual, and it serves me well.

Also, I used to have a lucky pencil. I called it that because it was my favorite shade of blue, and it felt super comfortable in my hand. The words seemed to flow when I used that pencil, if only because it had such an awesome grip. Unfortunately, it disappeared into the recesses if my house. Perhaps one day I will see it again, but until then, I'll have to make do with the pencils I have on hand.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

I have the feeling it's going to be an odd sort of week. My husband, who usually works nights, will be working day shirt starting this week. The change is for training purposes, and I'm not sure how long it will last. Either way, we all know how a shift in schedule can throw you off. When you get used to a routine, it's never easy to change it.

Either way, no matter what else might feel off this week, I need my muse to be in top form. I have to keep working on my A-Z Challenge posts. I'm making good progress, but I have plenty more to do.

What are your plans for the week? Are you doing the A-Z Challenge? If you are, are you posting ahead of time or writing as you go? How do you adapt to changes in your routine?

Saturday, March 16, 2013

I was watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Parts 1 & 2) the other night. One quote from the film, which I've already seen multiple times, stuck with me and inspired me to talk about language today.

Words do carry a lot of power. When we're small children, the ridicule of our peers can sting far more than a scraped knee, no matter how many times adults try to assure us that words don't hurt. Those who recite the old adage "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me" have also undoubtedly been wounded by words from time to time. It's only natural that this should be the case. As much as we try to shrug off the hurtful things that people say about us, they can at times pierce through our armor and wound us.

The right words can also help us aspire to greater things. A rousing speech can band people together to fight for a common goal.

What grants language this creative and destructive power?

The answer is that we do. As human beings, we created language as a way to communicate with the world. We are isolated inside our own heads when we don't have effective means of communication. Facial expressions and other physical gestures undoubtedly convey a lot on the emotional end of the spectrum, and this is quite valuable. However, there is a limit to how much we can share through those means alone.

"The limits of my language are the limits of my world."

-Ludwig Wittgenstein

Our language creates the bridge we build with others. When we share a common language with someone, we can use our words to paint vivid images in the mind of another. We can work together to build understandings of complex issues. We build our culture together.

"One does not inhabit a country; one inhabits a language. That is our country, our fatherland-and no other."

-Emile M. Cioran

Words don't have a meaning independent of human interactions. Languages are built in the same way we use them to build our cultural identities. Words have meaning because people agree on their meanings. Each time we speak a word to someone who shares our language, we confirm and hold true to that conferred meaning. When we converse with one another, we must agree on the meanings of each word we say, otherwise we wouldn't make sense.

Of course, the world is full of examples of misunderstandings, and those misunderstandings can be nasty at times. They often occur when the meaning of a conversation is different for each of the participants. People take offense, and often retaliate. Sometimes when we converse with others, the offense is intended. After all, we've all been a party in a situation where someone else intended to cut us with their words.

Yet, when the offense is one-sided, it can create just as great a rift as any intentional barb.

Anything can be taken wrong. Anything can be seen as a personal attack. In the realm of politics and religion, people hold their beliefs particularly dearly. These belief systems are fortified by words that hold meaning people may treasure.

Of course, this post has gone on too long already. This sounds like a good stopping point. I'll pick up where I left off next week!

Friday, March 15, 2013

This has been a stressful week. I mentioned last week that we had a problem with our bank account. Someone got our information and used it to steal money. Last I wrote, we were well on our way to sorting it out, but unfortunately, it took a little longer than we hoped to tie up all the loose ends. We spent a majority of the week with a negative account balance because of it. We had only the cash we happened to have on us when things started to go wrong. Finally, when we were down to our last $6, everything fell into place and it was all fixed.

Now that we have money again, I just went book shopping on Amazon to celebrate. Yay!

Also, we found out my son Jude has a nasty ear infection, but we got medicine for it. As of now, he's feeling much better!

So things are looking up for us, and that's certainly worth celebrating! What do you have to celebrate?

It's Friday again, and time for another foray into a dark world. For those who need to catch up on previous installments, you can find the entire story on this PAGE.

Memoirs
From the End of the World

Entry
#28

Confusion came first. What in
the world happened? RC wondered. Why do I feel like I’ve been flattened by a
train?

Pain.
An intense ache had taken root in every part of RC’s body, though some
parts were worse than others. She lay
unmoving for several long moments, keeping her eyes closed. The drowsiness kept her immersed in a fog as
she tried to remember what happened. All
she knew for certain was that she didn’t feel right.

Nothing felt right.

Then she heard a voice. She couldn’t distinguish the words at first,
but the sound sent her heart racing. Gas
Can. He was close, and that knowledge
alone sent her heart racing.

The memories began to return, and that
certainly did nothing for her calm. Alyx.
What happened to him? Where is
he? Is he here? That question prompted her to open her
eyes, though she peered through the tiniest crack between her eyelids. She didn’t want to draw any unwanted
attention.

The room was dark. The warm air proved that they were indeed in
an area friendly to Gas Can and his cohorts, but the stone wall that dominated
her vision told her little else. She lay
on her side less than a foot away from it, and she could smell its earthiness.

“You really are more trouble than you’re
worth, aren’t you?” Gas Can demanded.

“If that’s what you think, fine by me.”

Tim!
So they captured him too. Did
Ollie and Jill get away, or were they squirreled away somewhere?

“You realize what I’ll have to do to you
if you don’t cooperate?” Gas Can replied, his voice rising with his rage.

“You can’t use my sister against me now,
so why should I cooperate?” Tim
spat. “Get it over with. I’ve been waiting to die for weeks now.”

Okay.
So Jill got away, which meant Ollie did too. She couldn’t have possibly been strong enough
to escape on her own. Though this did
little to help her personally, she took some comfort in knowing that someone
would be all right.

A chilling laugh made RC shiver. “Very well.”

She heard a set of footsteps rapidly
approaching, and she didn’t have time to react before rough hands were hauling
her to her feet. Instinctively, she
tried to resist, but she quickly learned that her wrists were firmly bound
together, as were her ankles. Any
efforts were only a waste of precious energy at this point.

“Oh look, she’s even awake,” Gas Can
announced gleefully. “Now we can use her
cries of pain as incentive. I know she
isn’t your sister, but surely as a human being you’ll still feel something in
witnessing her suffering.”

Though these words unsettled RC, she took
the opportunity to note her surroundings.
Tim was once again chained up in the same way he was when she first saw
him. This time, however, he looked much
more alert. His eyes pierced Gas Can
like lasers. His body was beaten, even
broken, but his spirit sure wasn’t. If
anything, the knowledge that his sister was out of this monster’s hands had
strengthened his resolve.

A situation Gas Can clearly wanted to
remedy. He moved his hands from RC’s
shoulders to her throat. “I could
squeeze the life out of her, you know?
It wouldn’t be hard at all.”

Tim laughed. It wasn’t a joyful sound, but a sound of
mockery. Derision. RC had no doubt that Tim despised Gas Can in
a rare way that only comes from intense suffering. Even as a human being, seeing her suffer,
someone he’d barely met, might not even begin to rival his deeply rooted need
to defy this person he despised so thoroughly.
“I watched you torture my sister, and I still didn’t crack,” Tim
announced coldly. “What makes you think
I’ll give in now? Do you have any idea
how many people I’ve seen die?”

Under normal circumstances (which she
admittedly hadn’t found herself in for quite some time), she would have been
furious about his casual dismissal of her.
However, in that moment, she could hardly blame him. The rules had changed drastically since their
alien overlords landed. People had to be
cautious about their allegiances.

“Are you sure about that?” Gas Can still sounded smug as he tightened
his grip around her throat.

RC’s heart beat so hard it felt like it
was trying to break through her ribs.
She tried to draw a breath, only to find the effort futile. The pain of strangulation shot through her
body like a spider web, tendrils of pain exploding here and there. She wanted to scream, to kick, to punch anything,
but her bindings held firm.

So this was it. This was how death would find her. In a stone room, tied up so she couldn’t lift
a finger to fend it off.

Then, as she cast her eyes about the room
as that was the only part of her body capable of movement, they landed on a
welcome sight. Alyx lay against the opposite
wall, bound up in similar fashion, only he was on his back. His face was swollen and bruised, courtesy of
Gas Can’s hospitality, and his eyes were closed. Yet she saw that his chest moved with each
breath, reassuring her that he was all right.
At least for the moment.

I
wish I could talk to you one more time, Alyx, she thought. I hope you don’t feel guilty for whatever
happens to me. This isn’t your fault.

Her thoughts became less coherent. Her vision went fuzzy. She struggled to breathe as her body made one
last desperate attempt to stay alive.
All in vain.

Darkness descended on her like a curtain
closing on the final act of a deranged play.

I Survived!

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About Me

I am many things: a writer, a mother, a wife, a certified nutcase. Well, maybe not certified. No one ever had me tested. My characters exist in my head like multiple personalities. I deal with my insanity by putting it on paper for others to read.